Sherlock's Return
by rachelthenerdfighter
Summary: when Sherlock returns to 221B after The Reichenbach Fall. mostly canon but a bit of Johnlock at the end.


Mrs. Hudson hurried to answer the frantic knocking at the front door of 221B Baker Street. When she opened the door, she was surprised to see two rather strange characters: a young woman with her long brown hair in a ponytail wearing a lab coat, and a tall man whose face was obscured by the large hat and coat he was wearing. The woman hadn't noticed that the door was open (she was too busy nudging the man in the arm with her elbow for knocking so much), but the man did, and he pointed this out to his companion without saying a word.  
The woman turned, blushed a little at the sight of Mrs. Hudson waiting, and stuck out her hand. "Hello Mrs. Hudson, I'm Molly Hooper. I work... I mean, worked, with Sherlock Holmes on some of his cases?"  
Mrs. Hudson smiled and shook Molly's hand. "Oh don't worry, I remember you," she said warmly. "You joined us for our little Christmas party!" Molly shifted with slight discomfort at the mention of the party, but Mrs. Hudson took no notice. "And who's your friend here?"  
"Oh, he's my, erm, my cousin. He's very private though, he doesn't usually show his face to... strangers. Anyway," she hurried on, "we'd like to visit John, is he here at the moment?"  
"Yes he is, but he hasn't been accepting visitors. He might be willing to chat with you two though- John?" she called upstairs, "John, Molly's here to see you!"  
There was silence for a moment, then "Tell them I'm sorry but I'm not in the mood to see anyone."  
Mrs. Hudson turned back to Molly. "Maybe if you try-" But she was cut off by the disguised visitor forcing his way past Molly and Mrs. Hudson and up the stairs to John's flat.  
Molly flashed a nervous smile at the landlady. "Terribly sorry about that, he's not the best with manners." And she followed him up the stairs.

John leaned heavily on his cane as he took ingredients for a sandwich out of the refrigerator. His leg had started hurting again after... After his friend's death. Thinking about it made the leg hurt even more, but what else was there to think about? Mrs. Hudson tried gossiping with him, but stopped when she realized his disinterest in which celebrity was dating which. The job at the walk-in clinic helped to take his mind off things, but it became worse when people recognized him as "Sherlock's companion," or "Sherlock's boyfriend." The haters he could handle, but the believers... They were the ones that almost forced him to quit his job. That is, until one of the receptionists was nice enough to put up a sign at the front desk saying PLEASE DO NOT ASK DR. WATSON ABOUT HIS AFFILIATION WITH SHERLOCK HOLMES.  
John made his lunch and limped back over to his chair to eat. Before he could get started, Mrs. Hudson called up the stairs about a visit from Molly Hooper, which he declined. John didn't want to see anyone that closely associated with Sherlock. It hurt too much, and not just in his leg.  
John was about to take a bite of his sandwich when he heard the sound of feet coming up the stairs. Sighing, he put the plate aside and limped over to the door. But before he could open it, a tall man with his face obscured burst through, followed close behind by Molly Hooper.  
John pressed his lips together and turned towards his visitors with a very forced smile, which quickly turned into an expression of confusion as he watched the tall man look over the furniture closely. He sighed and limped over, tapping the man on the shoulder. "Excuse me, but what the hell do you think you're doing in my flat?"  
"It's not your flat."  
John blinked a few times. "Sorry, what-"  
"I said it's not your flat. You have a flatmate, I hope you haven't forgotten about him so quickly."  
"No, I HAD a flatmate. He died over a year ago." John turned to Molly, who was accepting a cup of tea from Mrs. Hudson. "Who's your... Friend?"  
The man straightened up, and slowly took off his hat and coat to reveal short dark brown wavy hair and a purple button-down shirt. He turned around to face John. "You dropped your cane," he said simply. "I was hoping you wouldn't have to use it again."  
John's mouth hung open as he stared at the man before him. The man who he thought - no, KNEW - was dead for over a year. After a few seconds he started chuckling and shaking his head because how could this possibly be real? It was just a dream, it had to be, there was no other possible explanation for seeing a dead person in the living room-  
"This is no dream, John," said Sherlock, as though he read his mind.  
"YES IT IS!" shouted John because at that moment it was more than a dream, it was a nightmare, with all the old feelings of comfort and frustration coming back at once turning into PAIN. But John refused to let his leg win this argument. "There is NO other explanation Sherlock! You are DEAD! I WATCHED YOU FALL!"  
"I know, but you had to, just listen-"  
"I don't have to, this is MY DREAM, and-"  
"JOHN I AM ALIVE!"  
The room fell silent, save for Molly sipping her tea. "I think I'll go chat with Mrs. Hudson," she said loudly, and hurried down the stairs, closing the door behind her.  
Sherlock sat down on the couch. "You still don't believe me."  
"No I do not."  
"All right then." Sherlock picked up the gun lying on the coffee table and handed it towards John. "Shoot me."  
"No."  
"But if this is a dream then I will be fine because I'll already be dead. Go on, take the gun."  
"I SAID NO!" Sherlock leaned back in his seat, surprised at John's outburst, and carefully placed the gun back on the table.  
"There's only one bullet in the gun," Sherlock said after a pause.  
"Excuse me?"  
"What good is a gun with only one bullet? Don't tell me..."  
John stared at the ground. "I... I considered it."  
Sherlock leaned over and hung his head in his hands. "John, I am so sorry. I was just trying to save your life."  
"Sorry? You made me think I was alone for over a year, and all you can say is sorry?"  
"What else do you want me to say? I could tell you why I had to-"  
"No. Stand up, Sherlock."  
"Why, what are we-"  
"Just do it. Now come over here. Closer. I said closer. That's better."  
"John just tell me-" But before Sherlock could finish the sentence he was knocked to the ground by what felt like a sledgehammer.  
"That was for leaving me alone." Sherlock struggled to get up but was knocked down by another blow. "That was for leaving Mrs. Hudson alone." And another. "That was for abandoning Scotland Yard and Lestrade." And the final blow. "And that was for making me pay the bloody rent all by myself."  
"Nice... Punch," Sherlock coughed as he struggled to sit up.  
John just sank into his chair without reply.  
A few minutes passed in silence as the two sat, occasionally staring at each other. Sherlock finally broke it with a phrase he used once before with John: "Okay, you've got questions."  
"Yeah, why are you just lying on the ground when the couch is right behind you?"  
Sherlock smirked. "I figured it was polite to let you think I was in more pain than I actually was."  
"Oh, like the way you faked your death?"  
Sherlock's smile froze on his face.  
"So how long will you pretend to be in agony now, hm? A day? A week? Thirteen months?"  
"If you think I 'died' just to spite you and your friends-"  
"Well then why did you do it, Sherlock? Why did you leave me all alone-"  
"You weren't alone, you had Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, any girl you wanted-"  
"I'm not about to go dating around after my best friend DIES!" John paused, then said in a slower, more controlled voice "I hated Mrs. Hudson and Scotland Yard for being close to you, and I hated dating because those girls weren't. And... And I hated myself for not being there in time to stop you."  
Sherlock sighed. "There was nothing you could've done. England would fall if Mrs. Hudson ever left Baker Street." John smiled at this, and crossed one leg over the other. "Shall I explain then?" asked Sherlock.  
"Yes alright, sighed John. "Why did the great Sherlock Holmes fall to his death?"  
Sherlock made like he was about to speak, then stopped. "Well I was going to say HOW I-"  
"Answer the 'why' first please."  
"But that's not-"  
"Giving you a chance to brag? That was the point."  
And so Sherlock was forced to admit that he cared about something other than himself and his work. He told John everything; Moriarty's visit, the journey in the cab, culminating with the exchanges on the roof.  
"He was determined to make me kill myself and have my name ruined forever. He used my affection for you, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade against me. He had snipers trained on all three of you. So then- what are you doing?"  
John was now standing up. "Get up, Sherlock," he sighed.  
"What? Why should I-"  
"Humor me." So Sherlock got to his feet, swaying slightly due to his beating. John steadied his companion by putting his hands on his shoulders, and pulled him into a hug.  
Sherlock froze, unused to this kind of physical contact. He had been hugged before of course, but not often and never by John. But after just a moment of hesitation, Sherlock hugged him back. It felt good to be back at Baker Street with two of his greatest friends close by. So good that he didn't realize how much time had passed until John said "Um... I think you can let go now?"  
"Oh." Sherlock drew back immediately, his face becoming slightly pinker. "Sorry about that. I'm just... It's..."  
John smiled. "I've missed you too Sherlock," he replied. "Welcome back."  
"So... All is forgiven then?"  
"What else could I possibly say? You saved my life. And it was about time you repaid the favor too."  
"Allow me to do it again," Sherlock grinned, and kissed John lightly on the lips.


End file.
